Wrecked
I want to go to Haiti. I believe God wants me, and a whole lot of other people, to go and be his physical presence doing all sorts of tasks. From the moment I learned of the devastation in Port-au-Prince, I was wrecked.
The people of Haiti lived a largely subsistence-level life before this earthquake took most of their material goods, housing and ability to earn any living. Millions of people were instantly dependent upon the good graces and provision of the rest of the world. As with many previous disasters, like Hurricane Katrina and the Tsumani that hit Sumatra, people poured out emotions, financial assistance, and in many cases, practical help for a long time. I, myself, have participated in a number of relief trips hands-on or as an organizer.
The news coverage of Haiti is mostly ended now. It’s likely we’ll only hear about crimes, corruption, and the occasional update on some milestone of progress. We won’t see the daily ordeal of getting food for a family. We won’t see the danger to vulnerable children and girls that comes from human traffickers. We won’t see the mud and mire that will engulf the nation as the rainy season begins and people continue to live in makeshift ‘shelters’ made of bedsheets, tarps, and debris from fallen buildings. We definitely won’t see the spiritual revival taking place among Haiti’s people on our evening news.
I have a group of friends who spent a week in Haiti to serve, to raise awareness of the situation on the ground through social media, and to investigate partnerships for serving alongside the local church now and into the future. They went nervous they’d all want to adopt an orphan, desiring to help however they could, and with sore arms from the copious vaccinations they received in preparation for their short notice adventure. They served, they observed, and they were wrecked by the experience. Changed forever. I’m so proud of the way they let God use them. I’m so awed at how God used them. I’m wrecked each and every time I read or hear them speak about their experiences. I’m going to link to some of their blogs, photos, facebook and videos. Go and see.
Adam McLane – photos – blog posts here, here, here, here, here and here
Jeremy Zach – blog
Ian Roberson – blog
Lars Rood – blog
Mark Oestreicher – blog
Anne Jackson – blog
Youth Ministry Advance Team: Haiti – facebook
It’s a lot, I know. It’s all worth it. God is calling. I’m wrecked. When? Where? To do? I don’t know yet. But I’m listening. Are you?


While in Sudan, Deacon Maria contracted malaria unbeknownst to her. She became ill after returning home and died of complications of the disease. It was shattering to face the loss, the cost of mission, the unthinkable loss of a friend to a disease so foreign to our homeland. (photo at right shows her parents receiving condolences from former Bishop Dan Herzog upon the establishment of the Maria Fenty fund for Sudan)
The hurts perpetrated against these whom society ought to give special care and respect are so painful to all of us. When the defenseless are left without ordinary champions, without cultural value, it diminishes us all. Once they are hurt, they can not, in fact, be restored by the justice the system metes out. Yes, if all goes well someone will be punished, but the damage to the child, to the elder, to the incapacitated can not be undone – it has already further darkened our cultural soul.

